Shadows of the Force
by Jocasta Silver
Summary: What if Atton Rand had ended up on Taris during the events of Kotor 1? How would this have changed galactic history? Revan/Bastila
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is an idea I got one day, that I'm just getting down on paper. For story reasons, Atton deserted around the same time that Malak betrayed Revan. It has been a year since than.

Disclaimer: I don't own "Star Wars", "Knights of the Old Republic", and "Knights of the Old Republic 2". They all belong to Lucasarts. All I own is any OCs in the story.

Chapter 1

_Nar Shaddaa, Two Weeks before the attack on the Endar Spire_

Someone was following him. Atton Rand knew it. He could not see the person, but he could feel them, sense, that someone was pursuing him. Maybe it was due to…no, he could not think about what she had told him! Not now, and not ever. For now, he had to speed up, dodging his way through all the late night foot traffic. Nar Shaddaa was a city wide planet that never went to sleep. Even now, its cantinas and pazaak dens were filled with crews resting as their ships were re-fueled or tired locals who were looking for something to do to liven up the monotony of their impoverished lives. With all the beings around, it would be easy to lose himself in the crowd.

He ran past a pair of Twi-leks and into the Green Room, a notorious pazaak den that was all but impossible to gain access to. Thankfully, Atton was a master at the game, and thus was free to come in and out of the place, as often as he liked. Its exclusivity made it ideal for losing any pursuers. The door guard never let anyone in without the password. Now that he was safe, he reviewed his situation. For the past hour, someone had been tracking him. Whoever it was clearly knew what they were doing. They were doing it so masterfully, that it was only due to his own special training that he knew.

But how they were tracking him did not matter. It was the why. There were many Hutts such as Vogga, as well as the Exchange, which had its hands in nearly every business on the smuggler's moon. But Atton had made a point of not get embroiled in Exchange or Hutt business. It reduced the number of bounties on his head, at any rate. That meant that there was only one group that would be after him.

_"No,"_ he thought. How could they have known that he was here? That was the reason he had chosen Nar Shaddaa in the first place. It was the ideal place to get lost in. For nearly a year, he had gotten lost, biding his time for the war to end, ideally with the Republic as the victors. And now they had found him. He could not hide in the pazaak den forever. They were patient enough to wait for him as long as they needed to. There was only one solution really. He needed to get off world now.

….

Jason Archer was not pleased when he woke up to the Endar Spire's blaring alarms. He really was hoping to get some shut eye after a very boring and uneventful shift. As he stretched, groaning, the door burst open, heralding the arrival of his bunk mate Ensign Trask Ulgo. Jason himself personally did not know the man very well, although he had heard some of the other crewmembers complain about the man using his family connections to get a better position.

"We have to find Bastila and help her!" the young man stated.

"Tell me something I didn't know already," Jason retorted, as he reluctantly got out of his bed and grabbed his weapons and armor, checking to make sure his blaster was loaded, before turning to Trask. "You're call, Ensign. Although personally, I think we should head to the bridge."

Fortunately, Trask nodded in agreement. "Good point. We need to help cover Bastila's retreat. Let's get to the bridge." He punched in some codes to force the door open, before nodding to Jason. The pair began their long trek.

Jason reflexively got into a battle stance, shooting down the Sith boarding party. Trask wasn't as skilled, but he was at least managing to hold his own. At least, he was until a flash grenade soared towards him, and he ignored it. Jason dived across the floor shoving him out of the way. The grenade exploded with a resounding boom that was a little too close for comfort. Jason quickly jumped to his feet, gunning down the two remaining Sith troopers.

He then turned to Trask. "You see what just happened back there kid. If I hadn't been there that grenade would have blasted you into tiny pieces, and splattered you all over the ship." Trask stared at the ground, not replying. He quickly added, "Just be more careful next time ok? You're no use to Bastila dead."

Trask briefly met his gaze and nodded before turning away. Jason sighed. _"If I get this kid out alive and safe with me, it'll be a miracle,"_ he thought.

Their trip to the bridge was largely uneventful, apart from their brief encounter with a Dark Jedi and Jedi Knight dueling each other. The Jedi had killed the Dark Jedi, only to have an explosion take her out. They had arrived at the bridge, and Jason had quickly switched to his vibroblade. It would be suicide to use a blaster in such close quarters, Jason knew that instinctively. Trask stood back, providing cover fire, while Jason charged, slashing the enemy troops, who one by one, all fell to either his blade or Trask's cover fire. Jason quickly assessed the situation. The bridge of the Endar Spire was devoid of personnel. Just as Jason was about to suggest that there was nothing they could do, and maybe they should head to the escape pods, several explosions burst out, rocking the bridge.

"Bastila's probably already gone to the escape pods," Trask observed. "The Sith will hold back as long she's alive, but once she's off there's nothing stopping them from blasting the Endar Spire into galactic dust!"

Jason could sense that Trask was more afraid than he let on. He placed a hand comfortingly on the younger man's shoulder. "Listen kid. I know things might seem tough right now, but we're both going to make it out alive if I have anything to say about it."

Trask nodded, and the pair left the bridge. The Endar Spire's alarms continued to blare, and Jason had a feeling that the ship wasn't going to last much longer. Just then, he heard a banging noise on the other side of one of the doors.

"I think there's something behind there." Trask raced to open the door, which whirred open, revealing a dark robed man wielding a double-bladed lightsaber. "Damn another Dark Jedi! I'll hold him off; you try and get to the escape pods!"

Before Jason could stop him, Trask charged into the room, exploding the door closed behind him. Jason raced to the door, and banged against it, trying to get it to open, but he knew deep down it was futile. Trask was probably dead by now. The best thing he could do was honor that sacrifice by escaping this ship, and making sure the Sith did not win this war. He turned and headed through the other door towards the escape pods.

….

_Two Weeks earlier_

Atton carefully snuck into the docks area, hoping that his pursuers were still waiting by the entrance to the pazaak den. Thankfully, Atton knew of a back door right behind the bar counter that led into an alleyway that was a shortcut to the docks. Atton had already stuffed what few belongings he owned into a bag, and had stopped by a merchant to stock up on shots for his blaster rifle.

Just then he heard a loud racket coming from one of the landing pads. He carefully crept closer to get a better look. A motley group of several different humanoid species were having a rather intense argument in Hutteese.

**"Has anyone seen Aaron?"** a yellowish skinned Mirialan who was probably the captain demanded.

**"He said he just needed to get some supplies,"** a Sullustan reasoned. **"He probably just got tied up with customs."**

**"Well we can't stay here forever waiting for him,"** a Twi'lek female pointed out. **"Vogga charges a fortune for each hour we're docked here."**

**"Well where do you plan on getting another crew member Alana,"** the Mirialan demanded. **"We need Aaron, unless one of you two idiots suddenly gained a skill in using the turbolaser and I did not notice."**

Atton inwardly smirked. This was his big opportunity to get off planet and away from whoever was pursuing him. He cautiously stepped out of the shadows. **"Good evening,"** he spoke slowly in Hutteese. **"I was just walking by when I could not help but overhear your predicament."**

The Twi'lek and the Sullustan stared at him as if they weren't entirely sure that he was real. The captain glanced at Atton, sizing him up. "Are you good with a turbolaser?" he asked.

Atton smirked. "You might say I'm an expert in taking down enemy fighters."

The captain snorted. "We shall see. Oh, and we're short on credits at the moment, so you'll have to go without pay until we dock at our next stop, Taris."

Atton shrugged. "I'm just looking for a way off this moon, so you can drop me off at your next stop as payment."

The captain considered this and then stuck his hand out for Atton to shake. "Deal?"

"Deal," Atton agreed shaking it, while inwardly thinking, _"Taris here I come."_

…...

Jason sat on the floor sweating and panting. The starboard section had been full of Sith, all determined to make sure that he did not make it through to the escape pods alive. But Jason had a reason to live for now, Trask was counting on him. Trask who had willingly sacrificed himself for a complete stranger. Jason had to make that sacrifice count for something. He punched open the door to the next room and was finally face to face with the commander of the Endar Spire, Carth Onasi.

"You made it just in time! There's only one escape pod left. Come on, we can hide on the planet below."

"Thanks for waiting for me sir," Jason replied respectfully. While Trask had technically out ranked him, he had not felt the need to show respect towards someone who was both inexperienced and younger. Onasi in contrast was more experienced, at least when it came to combat. He had heard everyone talking in awe of the man who also served in the Mandolorian Wars.

"I haven't left anyone behind before and I'm not about to do that now. So let's get into the escape pod."

Jason nodded and climbed into the narrow escape pod, Carth creeping right behind him. Jason immediately strapped himself in, as Carth launched the pod from its berth. Jason watched as the Endar Spire was incinerated by the Sith warships turbolasers. It had not been much, but it had been his home for the past month.

The escape pod was exhilarating rapidly as it burned through the atmosphere into the planet below. "Brace yourself!" Carth yelled. "We're coming in for a rough landing."

The escape pod crashed into a wall, and then everything went dark.

….

_Two Weeks Earlier_

The blond haired human known as Aaron rushed towards the docks just as the ship was taking off. "Damn it!" he muttered under his breath. Not only had he lost the fake job, but the man his true boss had hired him to track was gone as well. At least he knew where the freighter was headed next. He tapped into his comlink.

"Yes?" a cold feminine voice asked.

"Well boss. I lost him."

"Then you have failed me for the last time Aaron."

"No wait! Please!" he begged. "I…I know where that ship is headed."

"Then tell me. My patience is running thin."

"That ship, the _Shining Nova_ is headed for Taris!" he yelled desperately.

"Very well," the voice chuckled, sending a chill down Aaron's spine. "Follow him, keep tracking him, when you find him again, contact me. Do not try to apprehend him yourself."

As he cut the connection, Aaron wondered whether it was really worth all this money to deal with someone who would kill him if he failed. But then again, the bounty she had offered him was high, and Aaron was willing to take risks for those credits. He would capture this man, and prove his worth to her if it was the last thing he did.

Author's Note: What did you think? Please read and review. I love getting feedback on my stories. So I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Hi guys. I'm glad to say that after a long wait, chapter two is finally here.

Disclaimer: I don't own "Star Wars", "Knights of the Old Republic", or "Knights of the Old Republic 2". They all belong to their respective owners. All I own is any OCs you encounter in this story.

Chapter Two

Atton Rand was fuming as he walked back to his apartment. Taris had seemed like a great idea at the time, especially with an abandoned apartment that was mostly comprised of illegal aliens. And it had been a great place to hide. Until the Sith had invaded and put in their stupid quarantine, grounding all ships from leaving or entering Taris. Not to mention the fact that the Sith were occupying the planet, with frequent patrols and random searches. All of the Sith troopers sent a chill down Atton's spine. Even though most of these losers would not know him, there was still the unlucky chance that he would run into someone from his past. There was one being in particular that he wanted to avoid. He involuntarily shivered. If _**she**_ found him, well, he did not even want to think about what she would do to him.

Just then, a missile shot right past his head, colliding with the wall with a loud bang. For a moment, there was silence. Then, a hand poked out desperately trying to grab for the door handle. Before he knew it, Atton had run up, and was banging on the door to the contraption. The man on the other side was yelling at him, but Atton could not make out the words.

"What?!" he yelled back.

"I said, get out of the way!"

Atton considered his options quickly. He could just leave whoever this person was. The Sith troopers would be arriving soon, and the last thing he wanted to do was get arrested. But at the same time, he knew that the man would likely be taken in for interrogation. Just that thought brought back dark memories that he had tried so hard to suppress.

Atton yelled, "How about I pull this door, and you push it. Between the two of us we should be able to get it open."

The other man nodded, and Atton grabbed the door and began to pull. The door swung open, and the man climbed out. He turned and began picking up another being that appeared to be lying unconscious in what Atton now realized was an escape pod. Atton moved to help, and the other man nodded consent. The unconscious figure was a man, brown haired, who appeared to be in his late thirties. He was wearing a set of light armor that appeared to be of Echani origin. Carefully, both men maneuvered the unconscious guy out of the escape pod, and into the nearby apartment. Atton opened the broken door, and the pair entered Atton's apartment. They gently deposited the guy onto one of the beds. Then the guy turned to face him.

"Who the Sith are you?" the guy accused, glaring at him.

"Atton Rand," he replied, wondering why the heck this guy was yelling at him, when he had just helped him about a second ago. "And you are?"

"That depends on whose asking." Even in the dim light, Atton could make out a Republic uniform. He heard rumors of a clash between Republic forces and the Sith, but he was surprised that he had managed to run into one of the survivors.

"I did just save you and your friend, so I think I deserve to know just who it is I saved."

The guy snorted. "I'm Carth; the guy over there is Jason Archer. We'll just be staying until he wakes up, then we'll leave, and you can forget you saw us."

"No," Atton replied. "You don't have to leave, you can stay here."

"No, we are leaving." Carth moved towards the door, but Atton placed an arm on his, stopping him.

"Look, I know you're anxious to get moving, but it's probably going to be awhile before you're buddy wakes up. Besides, the Sith forces are probably patrolling harder than normal. It's best to wait-."

"Wait for what?!" Carth demanded. "For you to turn me and Jason in to the Sith!"

"No! What I meant was that the Sith are going to be looking for Republic survivors right now. You need to wait until things quiet down a bit. And what's wrong with you? You act like you don't trust anyone."

"I don't," he admitted quietly.

"What?"

"I don't trust anyone," Carth replied. "I'm sorry, but I've learned the hard way, that you can't trust anyone in this galaxy. Once Jason wakes up, we're leaving."

Atton was desperate now. "Look, I want you to stay, because I need you and Jason. Both of you guys are my ticket off this rock. I'll help you and once we escape this Force forsaken planet, we can pretend that we don't know each other."

"Why are you so anxious to get off this planet?" Carth asked.

"Let's just say that I have no love for the Sith and keep it at that," Atton stated, carefully maneuvering around the question. Right now, would be the worst time for his past to come out.

"Fine." Carth cautiously placed his hand out, and Atton grasped it gently, shaking. Then, Atton sat down in a faded armchair, and rested. It would be the last moment of true rest he would get in a long time.

….

When Jason finally awoke he felt a little stiff from lying in one position for so long. The dream he had experienced. The Jedi fighting against Dark Jedi, the clash of lightsabers, and yet it was so much more vivid than his usual dreams. He struggled to sit up on the bed. Around him was the room of a run-down apartment. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was the loud bang of the escape pod as it smashed against a wall, jolting him forwards.

"Careful," an unfamiliar voice said. "After the crash you took, I wouldn't be surprised if you're seeing stars right now."

Jason turned, and faced another guy. He was wearing a ribbed jacket that look soft, but Jason had a feeling that it was much tougher, and resistant to melee weapons. It was the kind of thing a smuggler or a bounty hunter might wear.

"I'm fine." He carefully stood, putting even weight on his feet. Already, he was starting to feel re-energized.

"Well I'm glad to see you're awake," the third guy, Jason thought his name was Carth, said. "You've been thrashing around in sleep. You must been having one hell of a nightmare."

"You're Carth, from the transmission, right? Thanks for saving me."

Carth shrugged. "I haven't left a fellow soldier behind than, and I'm not about do it now. Now we need to work on locating Bastila."

"I hate interrupt, but who is Bastila?" the other guy asked, staring incredulously at both Jason and Carth.

After a moment of awkward silence, Jason decided to answer his question since Carth seemed unwilling to provide any information. "Bastila's a Jedi Knight who's been helping in the fight against the Sith. She's got some rare ability that influences battles." He turned to Carth for help.

"That unique ability is called battle meditation, and it's apparently very rare. Bastila has the ability to influence entire armies, to either demoralize or encourage them. As you can probably guess, the Sith are desperate to get a hold of her. She was also part of the strike team that killed Darth Revan."

"Oh great, a Jedi," the guy grumbled. He sat down, pulled out a deck of pazaak cards, and started flipping through them, occasionally pausing to stare at one of the cards.

"She killed Revan?" Jason asked. He actually did not know much about either Revan or Malak. Sure he had once respected them for driving back the Mandolorians, but as far he could tell there was no reason for them to turn on the Republic.

"Yeah," Carth replied. "Unfortunately for us, the Sith quickly recovered with Malak as their new leader. And that's why finding her is very important. I did some scouting around earlier. The Sith have declared on quarantine on the planet and aren't allowing any ships to come in or out of Taris. We can't count on the Republic to send someone to help us. If we want to get out off of this planet, we can't rely on anyone but ourselves."

"So why us," the other guy demanded. "I mean, Bastila's a Jedi and all. She could probably get herself off planet easily."

"Because the Sith will be looking for her," Carth explained. "And Force help us if they find her. But we'll have to be cautious. Malak's followers have the dark side of the Force on their side, and I've heard they do some awful stuff to the Republic forces they capture. They say the Force can do terrible things to a mind. That it can wipe away memories and destroy your very identity. But if we're careful and don't do anything stupid, we should be fine. After all, they're not looking for some grunts like us. So let's move out."

Jason nodded, and the men gathered their things, and began their quest to search for the Jedi who might very well decide the victor of this war.

….

Aaron slammed his gun down in frustration. This quarry had been the hardest he had ever tracked. Not to mention the fact that every force in the freaking galaxy seemed to be moving against him. First, it had taken him days to stow away aboard a freighter off of Nar Shaddaa. Then, just when he had arrived on Taris, the quarantine had been enacted. All interplanetary communications had been disabled. Clearly the Sith were taking no chances of the Republic being alerted of their victory.

However, that also meant that he could not contact his employer of his progress, or rather lack of it. But then again, perhaps that was for the best. His employer was ruthless and did not tolerate failure. He had never met her face to face, but he had heard some rumors of her exploits. Rumors that sent chills down his spine. But her identity did not matter. No, what mattered was that he would complete his mission, and bring the man she had hired him to hunt to her. And then, well, he would have plenty of credits to have his own private base, and finally gain some respect in the guild.

….

As the three of them made their way down the hall, they were stopped by a Sith commander. Flanked by two droids he glared at the two Rodians who had crossed his path.

"Everyone back against the wall! This is a raid!"

**"But that isn't fair!"** one of the Rodians protested. **"A patrol came here yesterday, and they found nothing, why do you Sith keep bothering us?"**

The Sith commander responding by gunning the Rodian down. "That's how we Sith deal with smart-mouth aliens! Now the rest of you get up against the wall before I lose my temper again!" He turned and was faced with Atton and the two others. "Humans hiding out with aliens? Their Republic fugitives, attack men!"

Without a signal, both Atton and Jason charged forward, attacking the Sith commander, while Carth provided them with cover fire. The commander was clearly not expecting a double attack. He did not even have time to reach for his vibrosword before he was cut down by the pair. The two quickly took down the two droids, who each exploded with a puff of smoke when they fell to their vibroblades.

**"Poor Ixgil,"** the remaining Rodian commented. **"He should have known better than to pick a fight with the Sith. Thank you for your assistance humans."**

"Won't the Sith notice that these people are missing?" Jason asked, worried.

The Rodian shrugged. **"I'll move the bodies so it looks like they died somewhere else. Hopefully this will be the last time that the Sith bother us."** With that, he moved to pick up the corpse of the Sith commander.

"Now let's get to the cantina," Atton suggested. "If we wanted to find out more information about the quarantine that would be a good place to start."

….

When Bastila woke from the crash, stars briefly clouded her vision. She shook her head to clear it. The attack on the Endar Spire had happened so quickly, that she had not had a chance to use her battle meditation. The most she could do was try to encourage the few survivors to fight back long enough to reach the escape pods.

What worried her most was the one she was supposed to be watching over. Although, he had not noticed her, she had kept an eye on him the whole time that he had served on the _Endar Spire_. She hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, except, that he of all the crew seemed to be the most dedicated to their mission of defeating the Sith. What if he had not made it? She shook her head strongly. He would survive, somehow. For now she had to find a way out of this escape pod.

Suddenly, she heard a creaking sound as the escape pod door began to open from the other side. Her hands grabbed out desperately, searching for her lightsaber. Where was it? Just as her hand was starting to close in on the hilt, the door swung open, revealing a tough looking pair of thugs.

"Well," said one of them. "Look what we have here."

Author's Note: Sorry for the cliffhanger, but it seemed like a good place to stop. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed chapter two, and please read and review.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I'm sorry that it took so long for me to write a new chapter. I've been busy/battling writers' block. Also, there is a reference to events of "Knights of the Old Republic" the comics. So there is some spoilers for those who haven't read the comics. Without further ado, here is Chapter Three.

Disclaimer: I'm not a millionaire, therefore I am not in any way Lucas or part of Lucasarts, therefore, I don't own "Star Wars", "Knights of the Old Republic", or the "Knights of the Old Republic" comics.

Chapter Three

When they arrived at the cantina, Atton started to split off from the group.

"Hey Jaq!" Jason asked. "Where you going off to? Are you already bored to tears of both Carth and me?"

Atton involuntarily flinched at the name Jason used. It was probably unintentional. But the name still brought back dark memories that he struggled to keep buried. "The name's Atton, not Jaq," he corrected. "And secondly, I'm going to play pazaak." When Jason gave him a quizzical look he added, "You don't exactly expect to rescue your Je-I mean your friend on a no credit budget, do you?"

Jason nodded in understanding. "Just try not to bankrupt us. A former bunkmate of mine lost everything in pazaak game, except for the clothes on his back."

Atton laughed at that, and Jason gave him a weird look before moving off to another part of the cantina. Carth gave Atton a searching look before following Jason. Atton snorted. What was the guy's problem? He had been watching him ever since they had met. If Carth found out about his past, well, Atton tried not to think of what would happen. Once he got off this planet, he could go and find another place to hide. But where could he hide? Nar Shaddaa was out of the question. He doubted he would be able to insert himself into an ideal position a second time. Besides, when he had left, the Exchange had been starting to make trouble with the Refugees. And Atton did not want to mess with the Exchange. Not if he wanted to stay alive. Any outer rim system was out of the question as long as the Sith forces were out there. Perhaps, Coruscant was another place that he could disappear into. Or he could always return to his homeworld of Corellia. Atton sighed wistfully. He had not seen the planet since he was in his late teens, right before he signed up to fight in the Mandolorian Wars. But was anywhere really safe, when the one he suspected was on his trail?

_"I'll cross that bridge when I get to it,"_ he thought, as he whipped out his pazaak deck and accepted a challenge from one of the other players.

….

Jason carefully weaved his way through the bar patrons, with Carth trailing behind him. He occasionally stopped and chatted with various patrons who did not appear to be occupied with either pazaak or breaking the galaxy wide record for the most juma juice consumed in one sitting. Jason was surprised by the answers he got from his inquiries to their opinions about the Sith invasion and quarantine. Most were quite frank in condemning the Sith's actions, and even the few who regarded Jason with suspicion admitted that the quarantine made the citizens of Taris's already precarious struggle to survive that much harder. Moreover, this was just the Upper City. Jason was willing to bet that if life in the Upper City was hard, life in the Lower City was ten times worse.

Just then, he tripped running right into a young woman wearing a Sith uniform. She was young, probably in her early twenties with light auburn hair and brown eyes. "Sorry," he stated, and automatically held his hand out for her.

She ignored his offered hand, stood up and glared icily at him. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"Jason Archer," he replied. "It's nice to meet you. What's your name?" Although, she had behaved rather rudely earlier, Jason decided it would not kill him to be polite to her. As a Sith officer she might have information that would assist him in finding Bastila.

"Sarna," she stated through gritted teeth. "I'm a junior Sith officer stationed here on Taris."

"So you're Sith?" Jason inquired politely.

Sarna sniffed. "Don't tell me, you're one of those idiotic Tarisians coming to complain about the quarantine?"

Jason smiled sympathetically. Sarna had clearly experienced hostile interactions with most of the natives. "Actually, I'm not from around here. I just happened to be on planet when the quarantine was put into effect."

"Then you probably hate us even more for stranding you here."

Jason shrugged his shoulders. "Taris isn't one of the most exciting places I've visited, but it has been a blast to win money off pazaak players who think they're champions. I just try to make the most out of the situation.

Sarna nodded and smiled for the first time in the whole conversation. "That's what I mean; it's all about the attitude. I didn't ask to be stationed some useless backwater planet, but that's not going to stop me from fulfilling my duty."

Jason smiled back and nodded as if he understood her position. "I worked in the police department on my homeworld, and the smugglers we busted we're always cussing us out all the way to their cells."

Sarna sighed, "It has been wonderful to talk with someone who actually understands. It does get rather lonely at the Sith base." She furrowed her eyebrows as if she were considering something, and then turned and winked flirtatiously. "Some of the other junior officers and I are planning a party later on to blow off some steam. I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you came."

Jason smiled back, trying to force down his guilt. He needed information if he and the other were going to locate Bastila before the Sith did. "Yeah, I love meeting new people," he enthused.

Sarna grinned ecstatically. "Well, it's in the North Apartments East Side at 1600 hours. I hope to see you there Jason." She walked off with a spring in her step.

"What are you doing?" Carth sat in the spot that Sarna had vacated, his arms folded across his chest, and his brown eyes staring accusatively into Jason's own. "Do you realize how dangerous that was, talking to one of them?"

Jason sighed. "We need information if we're going to find Bastila, Carth. And besides, she didn't seem like a bad sort for a Sith officer."

Thankfully, the tension left Carth's shoulders, and his temper deflated. "Fine, just be careful. You're no use to Bastila dead."

Just then, the loud sound of a shot glass shattering echoed throughout the cantina. Jason motioned to Carth. "Let's go over and check out what's going on, I have a feeling our friend is right in the middle of things."

….

In all honesty, the fight was not entirely Atton's fault. He had easily won the first pazaak game without any effort, and his success had naturally attracted all the other pazaak players like moths to flame. The quarantine had limited the pool of players, so any new player was an exciting new challenge. All of them were amateurs easily defeated. Even the so-called pazaak "champion" barely grasped the rules of the card game; much less, the intense strategizing required in order to win the game.

Unfortunately, the slight black haired "champion" had taken offense to Atton's clear talent, and had accused him of cheating. Atton probably had not helped matters by claiming that the champion had no talent for pazaak whatsoever. This of course, had led to his current situation. Another shot glass smashed into the barstool, narrowly missing his head. Atton was not sure how much longer he could keep the dodging act up. While his past profession had trained him to defy many human odds, he was not invincible.

Just then, he heard a loud shout. "Stop!"

Everyone, patrons, fight bystanders, and the arrogant pazaak champion, stopped right in their tracks. Even Atton found himself turning to face the source of the voice. Jason stood flanked by Carth and a bar table. There was a kind of leader-like quality to his stance that Atton found himself listening to Jason's words, as if it was an automatic instinct.

"Why are you picking a fight with my friend?" he calmly addressed the pazaak champion.

The man growled. "Your "friend" cheated me."

Jason turned to face him. "Atton turn out your pockets," he stated casually, as if he was asking to borrow his blaster temporarily.

Reluctantly, Atton pulled everything out of his pockets. There was not much in there, his extra pazaak cards, a two day old kath hound sandwich, and a small gold wedding band.

His friend smiled at the person, "See, no skifters. It was obviously a mistake."

The champion glowers, but leaves, punching his fists at the thin air. The rest of the crowd disperses, and Atton can here sighs from some of the bystanders who were obviously itching for a fight.

"What the heck were you doing?" Jason asked, now that the crowd had all gone back to their own activities.

Atton shrugged. "I beat him in pazaak and he took offense to that."

"Just be more careful ok. I'm not going to be able to bail you out next time."

Atton almost laughed. As if he would ever need to bailed out of any problem. In fact, he had struggled to restrain himself, and not unleash his full fury on that man and the other bar patrons, as annoying as they were, they did not deserve _**that**_ much pain.

Aloud he said, "Sure, fine."

….

Bastila shifted nervously in the barely four feet that makes up the holding cell, that was really a cage. She was able to sit, and stand, but nothing more. Worse yet, she had no weapon, because the Vulkers had immediately confiscated her lightsaber. Fortunately, the Black Vulkar did not recognize that she was a Jedi, and a well-known Jedi that the Sith would gladly receive as a bribe to loosen up their tight hold on the Tarisian underworld. They had surprisingly believed her story about being a simple Republic officer who had bailed from the Endar Spire during the battle. However, they were intelligent enough to keep her restrained with a neural collar. A minor stinging nuisance in Bastila's mind, the larger problem was how she was going to escape. While she could easily remove the collar with the force, it would alert the small group of Vulkers guarding her that their prisoner was escaping, and worse yet, it would brand her as a Jedi. Moreover, with a world that no doubt under Sith occupation, she could not afford to take any chances. Therefore, she had no choice but to wait for the day of the big swoop race she had overheard her guards discussing. Out in the open, she would easily be able to overpower her guards and escape. Then, well she would cross that bridge when she got to it. Bastila sat, carefully avoiding running into the cage's walls, and began to meditate, the only thing she could do in this dicey situation.

….

Jason Archer sweated profusely under his used dress pants and white collared shirt that he had purchased at Shaniqua's Emporium. Sarna had not explicitly stated that this party was a formal dress event, but he figured that it would not hurt him to make a good impression on both Sarna and her fellow Sith. That way, they would never suspect that this seemingly benign young man was actually a Republic soldier desperately searching for information that would lead him to Bastila Shan, the most wanted person on the planet.

Just as he reached the walkway bridge that lead to the east side of the North Apartments, a figure darted out in front of his path. It was Atton. "Hey," he stated. "I just wanted to say, be careful."

Jason stared. From the short time in his acquaintance, Atton had given off the aura of a weary, but high-spirited gambler, who served himself first and his allies next. "Thank you," he replied. "I won't be long."

"Take this," Atton pressed a six-inch vibroknife into his hands. The blade was a little worn around the edges, but still usable as a weapon. "If things get rough at the party, you'll need something to defend yourself."

Jason nodded, and stepped across the walkway and into the other side of apartments. Personally, he thought Atton was paranoid, especially where the Sith were concerned. However, it was too late for him to return the knife, and besides, if the Sith officers found out his identity, he would need it to make a clean getaway. He carefully, placed the knife in one of his brown calf length boots, and headed down the hallway in search of the party.

….

Atton's mind was churning as he headed back to the apartment. Why had he felt the need to help Jason, who was essentially, a complete stranger? Sure, he owed him for "rescuing" him from that brawl with the so-called pazaak champion of the Upper City of Taris. Still, Atton had felt an automatic instinct to help and protect this man. There was also that hint of leadership in Jason's walk, and commanding tone in his voice. Who was he? Atton shook his head. Jason's strange behaviors did not matter, because as soon, they left Taris, he was going to leave this strange pair behind, and find a new hiding place in the galaxy, a place where the Sith would never ever find him.

….

"There you are," Sarna smiled at him as he entered the room. "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever show up. The party's already in full swing."

"Sorry, I'm late. I got lost," Jason, admitted sheepishly. It had taken him a tedious amount of time to figure out what floor the party was taking place on. Thankfully, the raucous music had acted as a beacon for him, guiding him to the location of the party. The music was so loud that Jason figured that if the partygoers were not Sith, then the neighbors would have complained about the loud noise by now.

She winked at him before leading him over to the makeshift bartender's stand that had been set up. "Anyways, you should try the Tarisian ale, it's fantastic. We should have taken over this planet a long time ago."

"Careful Sarna," another one of the officers said. "This stuff can be quite potent."

Sarna giggled loudly, and handed a full glass of ale to Jason, before pouring a generous amount of the drink for herself. Jason sat next to her, and tried to politely listen to her rather humorous anecdotes about her childhood, but his mind kept straying to Bastila. Where was she? Had she been captured by the Sith? He hoped she was safe, for her own sake, as well as for the Republic. Jason spent the rest of the evening lightly flirting with Sarna, who seemed quite pleased to respond to him, and clearly desired to take their relationship farther. When she and the others finally all passed out from the ale, Jason stood up and yawned, stretching his tired limbs, cramped from sitting still in one spot for so long. As he carefully went through Sarna's pockets, pulling out the Sith papers needed to travel to Lower City, he fought down a twinge of guilt. He needed these papers, if he, Carth, and Atton were going to find Bastila before the Sith did. He just hoped that Sarna did not get into too much trouble for losing her papers.

…

Carth nervously paced in the hallway outside the apartment hide out. While, there was a great risk that one of the patrols would recognize him as Carth Onasi, the great Republic war hero, he decided that it was better than the alternative, playing endless rounds of pazaak with Atton, who was clearly adept at the game. Carth never understood why many of the other men and women he served with during both the Mandolorian Wars, and this war, enjoyed playing games like pazaak that more often than not, ate up all of their hard earned credits.

Carth typically spent most of his down time writing to his wife Morgana, and their son Dustil. Morgana, he could not think about the happy times, without getting the image of seeing her broken body, her blank brown eyes wide with shock. That he would never see her laugh or grin widely again. In addition, they would never get to watch their son Dustil grow up and excel in whatever career he chose, or watch as Dustil found the love of his life, and raised some rambunctious kids that he and Morgana could dote on and spoil.

These thoughts inevitably led him to the man who had caused all of his suffering, Admiral Saul Karath, the man who led Malak's armada into battle and was currently third in Malak's chain of command. It seemed impossible at times that the same man had praised his piloting skills during the Mandolorian Wars and awarded him with the nickname "Fleet". Carth snorted. Was there anything that actually made logical sense these days? The greatest heroes of the Republic, Revan and Malak, had turned against the very structure they had once vowed to protect, and everyone, even the Jedi Order, seemed powerless to stop them. And Saul Karath, had betrayed them. That was why he continued to support the Republic, as hopeless the situation now seemed. It was all that he had left from his old life.

"Hey!" Jason had returned from the party, and had already changed back into his Echani armor. "Atton and I are ready to head down into the Lower City if you're ready."

"What did you find out?"Carth asked, desperate for any information on Bastila.

"All I found out was that Sarna's from Bellassa, and she apparently is allergic to kath hounds." His tone was both apologetic and crestfallen.

Carth's hopes plummeted all the way down into the Under City. Although no news on Bastila, meant the Sith had not yet captured her, it still left an unanswered question of her whereabouts. Was she even alive?

"But I did manage to get a hold of these." Jason proudly displayed a set of papers, which from Carth's quick skim of them appeared to be a pass of some sort. "One set of genuine Sith pass papers, which is perfect, since travel into the Middle and Lower Cities is restricted to Sith soldiers and civilians the officials figure won't make any trouble. And the Under City is locked down tight, only Sith patrols are allowed down there."

Atton emerged from the apartment, brandishing his blaster. "Hey, are we getting moving or what? It's not like we have all day to find your friend."

Carth's frown deepened. While, he couldn't trust Jason, he trusted Atton even less. Aloud he replied, "We're just about ready."

Jason nodded. "Let's move out."

The trio walked calmly down the hall, so the other tenants would not be suspicious. They were just three harmless humans, going for a luxurious stroll in the Upper City. As they walked through the streets bypassing pedestrians and Sith patrols, Carth made out a ruined tower in the skyline. In spite of the massive destruction, the structure was still upright, and was intact.

"What's that?" Jason pointed to the ruined building.

"That's the Jedi tower that was built at the start of the Mandolorian Wars to protect Taris," Carth explained. "Then the Jedi Masters assigned here killed their Padawans, and framed the one survivor. When the Mandolorians invaded, the Taris Resistance attempted to bomb the building to smoke out the invading Neo-Crusaders. It didn't work obviously."

Jason nodded, but as they moved on, Carth felt memories of another more carefree time, back when he sent out false tornado alarms for fun. Moreover, of a brown haired determined padawan, Zayne Carrick. However, it wasn't Carrick that haunted him the most; it was the question Carth himself had asked before he had taken the wrongly accused fugitive before Saul Karath "would you kill someone to prevent the future?" At the time, it seemed obvious to him that, no he could in good conscious kill someone in cold blood, no matter what his or her future was. Now, he wasn't so sure. Would he have put a blaster to Saul's head, if he had known the atrocities the man would perform in the future?

….

Jason walked as confidently as he could, masking from even Carth and Atton, that he was absolutely terrified. What if the Sith stopped looked at their papers, and realized they were stolen? However, the Sith guard at the elevator to the Middle City had not even looked his papers, before allowing him and his companions, to enter the elevator. Now the guard at this elevator only briefly glanced at the papers before handing them back to Jason.

"You're all clear," he stated, stepping by to let Jason and the others pass. "Just watch out for those flaming gangs. They don't take orders from anyone."

Jason nodded and moved into the elevator. He took a deep breath as the elevator closed shut, and began shoot downward. He needed to let go of his worries, and keep a clear head if he and the others ever hoped to find Bastila.

Author's Note: Sorry for another cliff hanger ending. I will try to get to work on chapter four again, but it might be awhile. I hope you enjoyed chapter three, and please read and review.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Chapter Four has finally arrived. First I would like to apologize for the long wait. School has been keeping me busy. So without further ado, here is chapter four.

Disclaimer: I don't own _Knights of the Old Republic_. This is owned by Bioware, and Lucas. All I own is any OCs you encounter in this story.

Chapter Four

Jason figured out that the Sith guard was not jesting when he warned about the deadly swoop gang war, after only a few steps away from the turbolift. Several Weequays in gold and red armor stood off against a Biff and a Twi'lek attired in blue armor.

**"The Black Vulkars will win this gang war," **declared the biggest of the Weequays.

**"You're wrong!"** the Twi'lek yelled defiantly. **"The Hidden Beks have more honor then you morons could ever hope to possess." **

Both groups quickly produced blasters, and started shooting. The Weequay on the left fell with a thump to a blaster bolt, but the other two deftly dodged their opponents' attacks. The Weequay in the middle quickly threw a gray circular object into the Bith's face. The object exploded, and the Bith went down with a loud yowl. The Twi'lek aimed his blasters, but was quickly subdued.

Just as Jason was wondering if they could risk running across the path and ducking in the nearest building, the two Weequays noticed the small party of humans. Without pausing, the pair turned and began to fire on the three of them. Jason ducked the spray of blaster bolts, hitting the ground hard.

_"Damn it!"_ he swore inwardly. While he had jumped out of the frying pan of deadly blaster bolts, he had jumped into the fiery inferno of being open to shots from both of the Black Vulkars.

Suddenly, a deafening boom sounded a few yards away, pummeling Jason in the chest. He cautiously rolled over and stood, to view Atton, clutching his left shoulder with a determined look on his face. The two Weequays lay dead, their bodies smoking slightly from whatever Atton had thrown at them.

Carth also sat up, and was for once lost for words. "How did you do that?" he asked his brown eyes wide in shock.

"I threw a plasma mine at them," Atton commented casually as if this was a regular occurrence for him. He produced a small collapsible rocket launcher. "With a little work, you can turn mines into projectiles. When you use them, mines become almost always fatal, because while you can dodge a grenade, a mine has bigger field of destruction, which means it will hit not only the target, but also everything in the vicinity around it."

Jason nodded, but could help feeling a prick of suspicion, that there was something strange about Atton. When they had first met, he had assumed that Atton was a lazy gambler/smuggler who just happened to be an excellent pazaak player. However, there was something more now, as if Atton not only killed, but also had enjoyed it. Jason laughed to himself. Now he was acting just like Carth, paranoid and seeing multitudes of threats where there was none. Besides, if Atton had killed before that would not make him much different from most civilians, considering that there had been two wars in the last decade.

When he glanced back at Atton, he noticed that Atton was tentatively touching his left shoulder and was wincing. "Hey, let me look at that."

Atton attempted to shrug him off. "No, it's ok. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Carth asked. "Because that wound looks like it hurts a lot."

"Honestly guys, I've had worse." Atton clearly wanted them to get off the topic of his injured arm and get back to searching for Bastila.

Jason shook his head. "We're heading back to the Upper City." As Atton was about to argue, he cut him off. "You need to have that wound looked at Atton before it gets worse. We can't exactly find Bastila if we're all on the brink of dying of our wounds."

….

Atton grumbled a little as they made their way back to the elevator. He could not understand why Jason and Carth were making such a big deal about his shoulder wound. Sure, it did sting a little, but Atton had suffered far worse back in the old days, before he had deserted. More humiliating was the laughter that the Sith guards at both checkpoints directed at him. Sure, he was shot, but he had survived, and taken out all the opposition as a bonus. In fact, he mined those creeps down in six seconds, which was a new personal record for him. Not that he would boast about the others, as they both kept unconsciously glancing back at him suspiciously. They suspected that something was off about him; that his down-on-his-luck smuggler persona was a ruse. Hopefully, they had not discovered his true past. Unconsciously, a soft voice reached into the forefront of his mind, _"They'll find out someday, you know. You can't conceal this forever."_

Atton shook off the ghostly voice from his mind. He would do everything to hide his past from the other two, until they had left Taris far behind them. After that, he would be free to go wherever he wanted, as far from the Sith and their war mongering as he could possibly get. Still, as they shot up through the turbolift back into the higher levels of Taris, he felt a shiver down his spine: the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

….

After breathing the sulfurous air, and confronting the raw violence of the Lower City, a part of Carth was relieved that they were returning to the Upper City, even though they faced further delays in locating Bastila. Carth quickly glanced back at Atton, who had fallen behind slightly, and was gingerly rubbing his wounded shoulder and wincing. Clearly, the wound harmed him more than he would admit. A part of Carth wanted to ask how he was holding up. However, he knew that his concern would not be appreciated. He encountered a fair amount of beings like Atton, tough no nonsense folks who refused to accept help from others and did everything by themselves.

"Hey, are you all right?" Jason had caught up with him and was now walking along side him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he quickly replied. "I'm just concerned that we might not get there in time to be much help."

Jason smiled. "Don't worry; we'll get to your friend before you know it."

Atton suddenly turned and faced the pair. "Hey what are you slow banthas waiting for? The Republic will end by the time you get moving."

Carth fought the childish urge to roll his eyes at Atton, and followed the brown-haired smuggler into the brightly lit doctor's office. The doctor, a dark skinned human sentient rushed over to greet them. Judging by his shabby white doctor's coat, he was the type who cared more for spending money to cure his patients then on his own wardrobe.

"Good afternoon," he greeted. "I'm Doctor Zelka Forn. Are you ill? I can treat any infection except for the Rakghoul disease."

Jason dragged Atton, who attempted to subtly sneak away, over to the doctor. "Our friend was shot in the arm."

"Hmm." The doctor produced a set of glasses, and carefully examined the angry red wound. "This does look quite nasty, although there's no sign of the bolt, just pieces of shrapnel."

"So can I go now Doc?" Atton asked eager to dispel any attention to himself.

Unfortunately, the doctor shook his head. "Luckily for you, all I need to do is remove the shrapnel, and stitch it up. I can also apply some local anesthesia, so the procedure should not hurt. I personally would not recommend leaving the shrapnel untreated, or you will have a full blown infection on your hands."

Atton sighed, and reluctantly nodded, giving his consent. "Fine, go ahead Doc, and cut me up."

The doctor moved to his desk and began to sterilize a metal operating tool as well as a needle and thread. Atton stood impassively as the doctor reached out with his surgical tools. Carth decided to focus his attention away from the operation and on the room, they were currently standing in. The doctor's office wasn't fancy, but was clean and in order, much like Carth would expect a doctor's office to be. In fact, this room reminded him of the private clinic where Dustil was born. Shaking his head before his thoughts traveled into uncomfortable territory, Carth noticed a locked door that appeared to lead into another room.

Cautiously, Carth edged towards the door, and pushed the release handle.

"Wait! Don't!" Doctor Forn yelled, but he was too late to prevent the door from sliding open, revealing several severely injured beings in kolto tanks. They clearly were other Republic soldiers. He finished sewing Atton's cut shut, and deftly cut the trailing edge of the thread. "Please don't tell anyone I'm hiding them."

"Don't worry Doc," Jason replied. "We're not going to tell anyone."

Doctor Forn calmed down considerably, and began to explain. "People brought me them from the crashed escape pods from the battle. All of them are too injured to live, but at least I can make sure they're comfortable."

Carth smiled faintly, his respect for Doctor Heron increasing in leaps and bounds. "Thank you Doctor Forn. It's nice to know that some of these men fell into compassionate hands."

Doctor Forn nodded and smiled, before moving to shut the door.

After a brief moment of awkward silence Jason spoke. "Um…Doctor Heron, you mentioned the Rakghoul disease. What is it exactly?"

"Well, the Rakghoul disease is an infection caused by sulfurous air of the Under City," Doctor Heron replied, clearly relieved to change the subject from the severely injured Republic soldiers. "The bite transforms anyone into mindless beasts known as Rakghoul. They feed on others, either killing them, or transforming them as well. Republic scientists were recently working on a cure, but then the Sith took over, and the commanders hoard the serum. They will only dole it out to their patrols that are going into the Under City. If only I could get a hold of the serum, I could wipe the Rakghoul disease from the face of Taris."

"I could sneak in to the military base and get it for you," Jason suggested.

Doctor Forn's hazel eyes widened in fear, "No, it's too dangerous. The Sith would catch you, and then we would both be arrested for treason. Please just forget I even mentioned it."

Jason sighed, but dropped the subject. "Do you have any medpacs I could buy?" he asked.

Jason and Doctor Forn quickly negotiated a deal, and the trio waved good-bye to him, before exiting the medical center. Suddenly, the doctor's assistant ran after them. "Hey! Are you the one who asked about the Rakghoul serum?" he asked excitedly, as if he had just won the lottery.

"Umm…yeah," Jason replied, confused.

"Well, I'm Gurney, and I've got an offer you'll want to hear. If you find the serum for the Rakghoul disease, Davik would be interested in receiving it, and distributing it to the highest bidder. In addition, he would pay you triple whatever Zelka could afford. "

Carth snorted; this assistant was clearly the polar opposite of the compassionate, philanthropic Zelka Forn, a slimy, greedy worm. "Then he'll only distribute it among the wealthy elites, and let the poor suffer, right?"

"Or he'll use it to control the poor and persuade them to do his dirty work for the serum," Atton interjected. Carth nodded in agreement; Atton observed a point that was definitely in line with the Exchange's policies.

"Just think about it," Gurney urged. "Give the serum to Zax at the bounty office if you change your mind."

"I'll remember that," Jason replied. "Good-bye."

Gurney smiled and waved triumphantly, obviously thinking that he had won Jason over to his side of things.

"Don't even think about it," Carth whispered intently to Jason as they walked down the street.

"Don't worry," Jason reassured him. "I wasn't even thinking about it."

….

Aaron slammed his blaster down in frustration. He had searched high and low throughout the Upper City of Taris and had yet to find his target. He was on the verge of risking going down to the Lower City, when suddenly; he tripped over a medium sized body. A man, no more than thirty standard years old, lay in a pool of putrid vomit that Aaron guessed was excess juma juice.

"Stupid filthy cheater," the man grumbled, his words slurring slightly.

"Who exactly, are you talking about?" Aaron asked, curious.

"There was this guy who beat me and just about everybody else at pazaak. The bastard had to be holding skifters, or counting cards, or something," the man replied, eager to vent about this frustration.

Aaron flinched, several of the man's words sounding similar to what his employer had described his prey's personality: "counting cards". "What did this man look like?"

The other man sat up, and wiped the light spattering of vomit off his mouth. "Brown hair and brown eyes. He was wearing a jacket that might have been some kind of light armor, kind of, like what smugglers and experienced bounty hunters wear. If you see him again, tell him he's dead for what he did to me."

Aaron chuckled lightly. "I'll keep that in mind." Then, before the other man could react, he brought up his blaster and shot once, hitting the chest area. The other man fell over, back into the pool of vomit, killed instantly. As he pushed the man's corpse into one of the many garbage disposal systems, he reflected that it probably was for the best that his informant was dead. While, the man was probably too drunk to have remembered the exchange, it was better that he left no potential trail leading to himself. Moreover, with the quarantine still in effect, it would only be a matter of time before he found his prey.

….

After their hair-raising encounter with the Black Vulkars, Jason was somewhat wary of venturing back into the Lower City. Fortunately, they encountered no fighting gangs as they made their way to the local cantina down here. As they entered through the doors, Jason noted that the bouncer for this cantina looked like he had seen combat experience, in contrast to the bouncer of the Upper City cantina, a young inexperienced kid who had probably never fought a day in his life.

He entered the cantina and intercepted an intense argument between two Rodians and female Twi'lek. The Twi'lek was young, probably about thirteen or fourteen, but Jason sensed that she was experienced in combat and would not appreciate his help.

"I told you already to leave me alone," she spat.

**"Little girl shouldn't be hanging around a bar,"** one of the Rodians muttered. **"She should just pack up and go home."**

"Fine, if you want to be that way," the Twi'lek retorted. "Hey, Zaalbar! I have some insects I need for you to rip limbs off of."

Zaalbar, a tall Wookie standing at the bar counter, turned and roared in annoyance. **"Not now Mission,"** he grumbled. **"They just brought me food."**

"This will only take a minute," Mission countered. "Besides you need the exercise."

Zaalbar moved to stand in front of the Rodians, who both flinched and stepped back. **"We don't want trouble with a Wookie,"** the second Rodian screeched.

"If you've got a problem with me, then you've got a problem with Big Z. So unless you want a fight, then I suggest you two greenies hop on out of here."

"Little girl lucky she has a big friend," muttered the first Rodian. **"One day, she might not be so lucky." **With that, the two Rodians ran away as fast their stubby legs could carry them.

"Hi," Jason greeted. "I'm Jason Archer, and this is Atton and Carth."

Mission turned warily, and assessed, relaxing her stance when she decided that they were not a threat to her. "Hi, I'm Mission Vao. You look like you are new to the Lower City, so I guess that makes Big Z and me your official welcoming committee. We'd give you a guided tour, but the streets aren't exactly safe right now."

Jason smiled. Mission might be an adolescent, but she seemed street-wise and observant: the right person to go to for information.

"So why do you speak Basic?" Atton asked.

Mission shrugged. "A lot of aliens know Basic, but they prefer to speak in their native language. I grew up on Taris for most of my life so I got used to speaking Basic all the time."

"If you don't mind me asking Mission, how did you and Zaalbar meet?" Carth inquired.

"We joined forces, because it seemed that with my street smarts and his strength, we made a pretty good team."

After Carth and Atton quieted down, Jason turned to Mission. "So, what can you tell about the gangs?"

"There are a lot of small gangs, but the Vulkars and the Hidden Beks are the two main ones," Mission explained. "The Vulkars have been attacking the Beks and pretty much anyone they run into on the streets. That started when Brejik left the Hidden Beks took over the Vulkars."

"Brejik used to be a Hidden Bek?" Jason asked, confused.

"He used to be Gadon's second in command; after Gadon lost his sight in a swoop bike accident everyone assumed he would step down and let Brejik take his place. However, Gadon said he was not ready yet. That made Brejik angry so that two-faced bantha left to join the Vulkars and ever since then, the gang wars have heated up."

Jason had a feeling that this gang war was important, but he decided that he decided to ask another question. "What do you know about those Republic space pods?"

Mission shook her head. "I don't know much about that, but if Gadon probably knows more about it. Just go to the Hidden Bek base. They're pretty open about letting anyone in there as long as you're not a Sith or a Black Vulkar."

"Thank you," Jason replied. "I guess I'd better get going if I want to speak to Gadon."

"Yeah, this dive is pretty boring anyways." Mission grimaced for a moment before turning to her companion. "Come on, Zaalbar, let's get going."

**"But I'm hungry Mission,"** Zaalbar grumbled.

"We need to get going Big Z. You can eat when we get back to the Bek Base." With that, she quickly left, giving her companion no choice, but to follow her.

Jason took that as his cue to leave; as he and his companions left the cantina, he felt that there was more to that pair then met the eye.

….

Locating the Hidden Bek base was easy, but entering the base was a challenge. Jason attempted to sneak into the base, but was rebuffed by the door guard, a tough looking human woman.

"Hold it! Where do you think you're going?" she hissed, glaring.

Jason smiled amicably. "I just need to speak to Gadon. I have a problem."

The door guard snorted and rolled her eyes. "Of course you need to speak with Gadon. He's the hero of the all the common folk. However, the days of the Hidden Beks open door policy are over."

Jason suppressed the urge to yell; he knew he needed to stay level headed if he planned to be admitted to the base. "I'm not with the Vulkars or the Sith. I could be helpful against the many enemies circling you're gang."

She frowned, as if she suspected that he was withholding the truth. However, she finally nodded and stood aside to let them enter. "Well, you don't look like you're with the Vulkars or the Sith. Besides, with how badly the gang war is going, we could use some extra help. However, you'd better be on your best behavior, or we'll throw you out the hard way."

"I wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart," Jason placated. Before she could retort, he pushed aside the double doors, and entered the base.

Author's Note: I was originally going to include the talk with Gadon, but I decided that I would rather not keep you guys hanging in suspense for another update. I hope you enjoyed chapter four, and as always, please read and review.


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